Recollections of a Forgotten Past
by HisauMaiya
Summary: The past of Hisau Maiya. Time: Before the events of Fate/Zero. Source for the picture used as the cover: /member illust.php?mode medium&illust id 28022927
1. Prologue

_Note: All characters mentioned in this story that are not related to fate zero are purely the creation of the admin. I do not own Hisau Maiya or any Type Moon characters._

There was a clap of thunder.

Or at least, I thought so.

I hugged my mother as tight as I can, inhaling her familiar motherly scent.

The thunder never stopped. Normally father and mother would bring me to the window and watch the crack of the sky.

It was beautiful. They told me it was called 'lightning'.

However, today mother closed all the windows and curtains, and took me and my little brother and sister to the basement. There were no windows in the basement, so I could not watch the lightning, but today the thunder was louder than usual, and it did not stop.

"Mommy, is the sky falling?" My little sister was in tears, the thunder scared her.

"No, everything will be fine darling." Mother hugged the three of us even harder, while the thunder seemed to be getting louder and louder.

Bang!

There was a huge crash, and the ground shook. All of us were alright, it must have been the neighbors, but it frightened us out of our skin.

Suddenly, I realized something was wrong.

"Mommy, daddy is not back yet."

"He has gone to help the country, dear." She looked at me with tears in her eyes. "Would you help me take care of your brother and sister until he comes back?"

"Mommy, don't cry." I wiped off her tears, and promised,:" I will take care of them, don't worry, mommy."

She smiled, and patted my head.

"But…when is daddy coming back?"

The thunder outside roared so loudly we all had to cover our ears. The great cupboard crashed near us, and my sister started crying again.

Amongst all the crashing and the cries, my mother's reply was almost too soft to hear.

"He'll be home soon, dear. Soon."

I was Eight. And I never saw my father again.

Picture Source: member_ ?mode=medium&illust_id=27373517


	2. Chapter One

-I don't own Hisau Maiya, she belongs to Type Moon-

_Just pull the trigger._

As the bullet of the rifle pierced through the heart, the boy didn't even have time to scream before his body slumped lifelessly onto the ground.

Seven withdrew her rifle, her gaze hollow as she stared at the corpse that lay dead in front of her.

Yet another life she robbed out of cold blood…

It has been two years since she was kidnapped from her family. _They_ came in their military uniforms, snatching every single child by the age of seven by force.

Many did not survive. Some died of diseases and sicknesses, some of hunger. There were always not enough food in the training camp; most of the food went to the adult barracks. There were also not enough blankets and clothes, or medicine for everyone.

Not like anyone cared.

The children captives had to get up early each day for their training, and they were trained to kill. Nobody was an exception, even children as young as seven year olds were required to wield a gun.

They were commanded to forget about their past lives. As soldiers, all they needed to do is to defend and fight for their country. Talking about their past lives were forbidden, whoever was caught was either beaten mercilessly with a whip or shot to death. They were forced to watch all the deaths of the children who broke the rules – it was a way of disciplining them.

Seven walked away, as some of the younger child soldiers dragged the body away. She headed to the canteen, where they could take their daily supply of food and water. As she took a bite out of the half stale bread, she suddenly felt a wave of nausea, her appetite gone.

Despite her emotionless demeanor, her heart was bleeding inside.

_I knew him. He was from my village._

_I killed him. I killed him. I killed him._

She shook her head, trying to clear those thoughts out of her mind.

_I can't even remember his name. The only thing I remember about him was Twelve, because coincidentally the first four digits of our numbers were the same._

In order to help them forget their past, each of them were given a number, and that number functions as their new name.

Seven stared at the number on her uniform. 511207.

_His number was 511212._

She forced herself to finish her bread, it wasn't everyday they had a whole piece of bread to themselves.

She had been killing for two years now. To toughen them up, the commander made them kill their own comrades. Whenever a soldier broke the rules or tried to run away, some of them would be selected randomly to perform the kill; and those who refused were threatened and whipped. Any show of weakness would lead to punishment, and the only way to survive in this military was to stay out of trouble. Seven learned that the hard way.

It was a week after she was captured, and she was homesick. The other children pleaded to return to their homes, but they were either ignored or given stern warnings. She knew, running away was the only way out.

She was nine, and she didn't know a single thing about the camp. She had survived a year with her family, depending on their savings. Though it was hard, and she stopped going to school, she was happy, and all she wanted was to be with her mother again. Her young heart was determined, and nothing could change her mind at that time, not even after witnessing some of the other children being brutally beaten for running away.

She decided to sneak out during meal time. It was dark, but the moon was bright enough to direct her to the exit. It was all too easy. She managed to sneak out after grabbing a bite, and she didn't meet anyone on her way to the big gate. It was so smooth and easy she almost laughed.

Then, a hand grabbed her on her shoulder. She was barely a few steps away from the gate. She struggled and kicked hard at the guard, but he only tightened his grip on her, making her cry out in pain. She was so close, _so close_ to getting out, it made her want to curse her own fate.

The next day, she was brought to the assembly site. The other children were already waiting, sitting down in neat lines. The guards dragged her on stage, where a grown-up was standing there, with a whip in his hand.

The moment the guards released her, he backhanded across the face so hard that blackness curled in from the outside of her vision. She fell to her knees, wincing in pain. As the blackness slowly receded, she could hear him shouting to the other children downstage, warning them about what would happen to them if they made the same mistake as her. She shook her head and tried to stand up, her youthful pride would not allow her to be humiliated this way.

Such an action only resulted on a kick to her already bruised ribs. She gasped for breath, as another kick made her whole body clench in protest. The whip slashed against her back, and a scream of pain tore out from her throat. Shaking her head to try easing the pain, she wanted to stand up, or do something to stop him from hitting her, but she hurt so much. She couldn't think properly. She curled up into a ball, throwing her arms over her head to protect her head. Her whole existence revolved around waiting for the next slash and next explosion of pain. Her blood spilled on the floor, but nobody seemed to care.

She never attempted to run away again. The scars on her body reminded her of that day every time she had a shower. Her shoulders slumped at the thought of the boy she just killed. He had attempted to run away at least twice.

_He broke the rules. He was naïve, just like all the others who died._ Seven thought bitterly. _I had no other choice._

It was difficult, at first. The first time she killed, her hands were shaking and she missed the heart, causing the child more pain as she was forced to shoot a few more times before he was dead. That memory haunted her for years, the boy will always be screaming at her whenever she fell asleep. _Why? I only wanted to go home. Why did you kill me? _Each time she woke up traumatized and frightened, and she would find tears rolling down her cheeks as she thought of how the commander tied the arms of the boy and made her smear his blood on her arms after he died. He said she had to do this so she would not fear death and would not try to escape. That boy never left her mind, no matter how hard she tried to forget about him. The nightmares only got worse, as the slaughtering never stopped; they even had to kill each other for food when food was scarce. Only the strong ones survived.

Running away wasn't an option. All of them knew that. Yet people like Twelve never gave up, they just kept trying._ Idiot._ Seven fought back her tears; she couldn't break, not now. That was how she survived for two whole years, she was not about to give in yet.

In a place like this, trust and friendship was not an option, and Seven had long learned how to suppress her inner feelings and emotions. She became a killer, one of the elites in camp. Sometimes she was selected to participate in the attack against the enemies. She survived, and ended up in hospitals and wards, but she was always brought back again the minute she recovered. Being in a battlefield was nothing like she imagined – lives are lost within seconds, and the generals didn't give a thought about them. They only retreated after most of the children fell, and then trained them even harder after that to ensure victory; but the cycle would repeat itself, over and over again. Many children died, but they just kept kidnapping more to join the army.

It wasn't long before the whistle was blown. Seven gobbled up the remains of her bread and slung her rifle over her shoulders, her jet black hair covering her expression. When she looked back up, her brown eyes held no emotion, she was back to the person she forced herself to be, a killer.

Seven was lucky; she survived in the battlefield, yet -

The camp was a battlefield itself.


	3. Chapter Two

It was not a quiet night.

But yes, it was dark.

Seven was never afraid of the dark, but now, she was.

When she was little, the dark meant time for bed, it meant time for resting and marked the end of the day.

The day was far from over.

And the dark meant something totally different for her now.

It wasn't long before the flap was opened, and the men came in like it was their territory.

There was no one in charge of the dormitories, and on a nightly basis they would come.

The place instantly filled with screams, shouts for help, even cries. All of it rung in her ears, but she hadn't even the time to react when somebody grabbed her from behind.

It was so dark, they couldn't even see who was it on top of them.

Every single night, she felt like they've killed her soul and left her body alive. The shame was unbearable and it never went away. She didn't feel like a human, she felt like just a thing, a useless piece of garbage. She would spend hours in the shower if they'd let her, because the feeling of being dirty didn't seem to wash off no matter how many times she scrubbed herself raw.

Seven fought the man like crazy, she tried kicking, punching, yelling, even biting, but the more she struggled the more she realized she could not get out of it. She pleaded and begged, but it was like he couldn't hear her. She tried to scream but he put his forearm on her throat and his knee on her stomach. Tears came streaming down her cheeks like a hosepipe, it wasn't only the pain she felt on the outside, but the terror and humiliation that entangled her soul. He ripped off her clothes, treating her as a puppet that couldn't feel pain. She felt every stroke of it and it seemed to go on forever…

_Shame. Helpless. Violated. Tortured._ How many times has she endured this? How much longer did she have to suffer?

She was in shock, and faded in and out of consciousness, seeing flashes of light here and there. There was blood flowing out from between her legs, she felt ripped apart from within. Her virginity, her pride, her dignity… All was stolen from her in one single night. There was a thunderbolt of pain in her head and she felt that someone had violently and brutally taken something that belonged to her and only her without her permission. They were told that they had to do it to 'alleviate the sadness of the combatants', but who would alleviate their sadness after making out with someone they hardly knew?

Things went on as usual every day. All the female soldiers were treated no differently, and were expected to continue with the daily routine. That was how it worked here. Seven got ready hastily for the daily practice after the morning bath, along with the other soldiers. Nobody was crying- they were not allowed to do so.

Punctuality was one of the strict rules in camp, and Seven was already in line before some of the others arrived. She was only eleven, but she had to face the harsh reality put out in front of her, regardless of whether she liked it or not.

Practice went on as usual, until she felt a wave of dizziness in her head. She shook it off and kept to the rhythm, but it wasn't long before she felt it again. She tried to ignore it like how she normally did, but today was an exception when she found herself throwing up on the ground, emptying all the contents of her breakfast she just ate. She didn't even have a minute of rest before the commander barked at her to get back. She wiped her mouth and jogged back, this time it only took her two or three steps before she bent down and vomited again.

_Was it something I ate?_

The commander was so angry he punished her by not giving her anything else to eat for the rest of the day. She felt so sick she didn't do well at anything, and only had time to rest at the end of the day. She felt hungry and weak, but nobody offered her a bite as they had barely enough food for themselves. Nobody had the same symptoms as her and she was confused.

_What is happening to me?_

The next day, the same thing happened again. And the days after that. She had so little to eat she was desperate, and during the evening she decided to search the bin for anything, as long as it could ease her hunger. They say desperation can make people do things that they normally won't, at this rate, she didn't care if she got punished, she was so hungry she couldn't even think straight.

She dug through the bin, but found nothing. Disappointed, she decided to head back to her dorm when something caught her eye.

It was one of the junior soldiers, washing the uniforms from the adult barracks. It had blood stains, and the junior was having some trouble removing it.

It wasn't until she saw the speck of blood on one of the male soldier's pants when it dawned upon her. She felt a cold sensation surge through her body when she realized what was happening to her. Frantically, she raced back to her bunk, and took out the little notebook hidden under the pillow.

"One…two…three…"

_How many days has it been?_

"…Twenty-two, Twenty-three, Twenty-four…"

_No, please. It can't be…_

The bigger the number got, the more panicked she became.

"…Forty-two."

It has been forty-two days since she had her last period.

_No…It can't be…_

Despair and helplessness strangled her, making it hard to breathe.

_No… please…_

The notebook dropped from her hands, and she fell to her knees, shaking all over.

_Why? Why is this happening to me? What have I done wrong?_

It was like falling into a black hole with no arms ready to catch you.

She felt herself falling deeper and deeper, as she crouched down and sobbed her lungs out.

She was pregnant.


End file.
